Revelations at the River
by TT-5
Summary: When Superintendent Hugh Reid agreed to go fishing with his good friend and longtime colleague DCS Christopher Foyle he had been hoping for a trout or two for supper, not the answer to a long standing mystery.


A/N: I own nothing but I do love the idea of Foyle and Reid being good friends and wish we could have seen more of Reid in the show itself. Please let me know what you think :)

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1945

It was a beautiful morning, the sky was a cloudless pale blue and all that could be heard was the gurgle of the river and the chirps of various birds. Superintendent Hugh Reid let out a satisfied sigh as he recast his line with a practiced flick of the wrist.

Suddenly there was a startled gasp followed immediately by a partly swallowed oath. Surprised Reid turned and to his horror saw his good friend Christopher Foyle reaching up to clutch his right shoulder, face suffused with pain. "Christopher!"

Reid hurried over to his friend line trailing forgotten behind him as he splashed through the water. Foyle was bent at the waist gripping his right shoulder tightly, face creased with pain. "Christopher what's happened?" Reid asked urgently placing a careful hand on Foyle's left elbow.

"Piece moved, Christ!" Foyle managed to gasp his face now gray with pain.

"Can you walk? I think we'd best get you sitting down." Hugh tried to keep his voice calm in spite of his rising panic.

Foyle nodded and then hissed "Rod" through clenched teeth.

"What? Oh" _trust Christopher to think of that at a moment like this!_ Hugh reached down and took the rod that was about to fall out of Christopher's right hand, and then crossed to the bank, putting both of their rods down as hurriedly as he dared.

He turned back and felt his worry increase as he took in the pallor of his friend's face and the sweat that was dotting his brow as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. Quickly returning to Foyle's side Hugh carefully gripped his elbow, "steady on Christopher, lets get you to the bank, that's it." He carefully steered his friend to the rivers edge and helped him sit down.

"Christopher?"

"Mhhm, bugger!" Foyle appeared to be trying to massage his shoulder but rather than helping it seemed, from what Hugh could see, to be making it worse.

"Do you need Dr. White?" Foyle shook his head firmly, "has this happened before?" Foyle nodded and Reid couldn't decide if this was a good thing or not. "Do you know what to do?" another nod, "can I help?" There was a longer pause this time before Foyle nodded again, somewhat reluctantly.

"What can I do?"

The silence stretched, punctuated only by Foyle's winces and muffled gasps and the pounding of Reid's heart. Finally he squeezed the back of Foyle's neck lightly, "Christopher I need you to tell me what to do." He spoke slowly and he hoped calmly and was relieved when Foyle nodded slightly.

"Shrapnel pinching something" Foyle panted, "Need to move it."

Reid blinked at him for a moment in shock, _shrapnel! Since when did Christopher have shrapnel in his shoulder?_ "Err right, do I need to move the muscle or the joint?"

"Both." Foyle hissed eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

Reid studied him worriedly, "it's going to hurt like hell isn't it?"

Foyle nodded mutely and Reid quickly reached out to take the handkerchief out of Foyle's breast pocket winding it together with his own. "Right open up."

Foyle peered at him questioningly, "can't have you biting through your lip old man." Reid explained with an apologetic smile. Foyle nodded and opened his mouth so Hugh could place the twist of handkerchiefs between his teeth before biting down again.

Reid took a steadying breath and gripped Foyle's right triceps with one hand, placing his other hand of Foyle's right shoulder. "You'll tell me if I make it worse?"

Foyle nodded, eyes closed again. "Ready?" At Foyle's answering nod Reid took a deep breath and began to slowly but steadily manipulate Foyle's shoulder, trying to block out his friend's muffled groans of pain.

It didn't seem to be doing anything and then all of a sudden Foyle went limp listing forward so suddenly that Hugh was afraid he had passed out. "Christopher!" He crouched down in front of his friend, ignoring the water that lapped at the top of his waders and was relieved to see Foyle's eyes flutter open.

"Christopher, are you all right?"

Foyle nodded and reached up with his left hand to remove the handkerchiefs, "yes."

His voice was rough and breathless and Hugh frowned, "you all right to sit by yourself for a minute?"

Foyle nodded again so Reid rose and quickly waded across the stream to where their carry baskets sat, grabbing the thermos of tea he had packed that morning before crossing back to Christopher.

Taking a seat beside his friend Hugh opened the thermos and hastily poured some tea into the tin lid, "here Christopher have a drink of this."

Foyle took the offered cup with a weak smile and obediently took a drink. For a while they sat in silence, Foyle sipping his tea while Reid studied him anxiously. "Are we going to talk about this?" Hugh asked finally after Christopher had finished his second lid-full of tea and, much to Hugh's relief, had some colour in his cheeks again.

Foyle studied him out of the corner of his eye, "not much to say except thanks."

"Come on man! One minute we're fishing and the next you're doubled over saying something about shrapnel in your shoulder. We've been friends for over twenty years and I didn't even know you've got some shrapnel floating around in your shoulder! How do you think that made me feel?"

"Probably about the same as I felt the first time you had one those headaches of yours at the station." Foyle replied, studiously avoiding Reid's gaze.

"Then you know I'm only asking because I'm worried about you."

Reid spoke softly and Foyle let out a sigh, "I know Hugh." He fell silent, looking across the river with unfocused eyes for several minutes before clearing his throat. "Not much to tell really, was a charge in Ypres, shell exploded few yards ahead of us. I was lucky, only caught me in the shoulder, John wasn't."

Foyle swallowed hard and Reid silently poured him more tea. It never got easier when you got right down to it; the only thing that changed was how often you thought about it. Because at the end of the day you never forgot the faces and names of the men you had served with, never forgot how many of them hadn't come home again.

After a bit Foyle took a deep breath, "anyway ended up in a field hospital, they took care of me and I was back in the line in a few weeks. Thought that was the end of it until after I was home." He paused and took a sip of tea, "was driving one day when I lost all feeling in my arm, bloody lucky I didn't crash. Saw White and he figured they must have missed a few pieces and suggested I fish more to build up the muscle."

Reid nodded slowly as he thought over what Foyle had just said, "does it happen often?"

"No, not anymore, been a few years since the last time."

"That's something I suppose…wait, that's why you don't drive isn't it?"

Reid's eyes were wide as he studied him and Foyle ducked his head as he mumbled "umm yeah."

"Why didn't you say something?" Reid demanded. Christopher had always insisted that driving interfered with his ability to think about the case and Hugh had taken his friend at his word, consistently silencing the muttered comments that always crept up at the station, but now… "Christopher?"

Foyle sighed, "not really something I like to think about Hugh, besides having a driver does let me think through the case in between calls, much more efficient."

"You could have told me you know, I mean I understand not wanting it going around the station but it would have gone no further."

Foyle sighed again, "I know Hugh, _never_ doubted you, just never really came up." Reid nodded relieved.

After a few minutes of silence indicated that the conversation had run it's natural course, he got to his feet, "ready to head back? I figure no self-respecting trout is left to be found after all the splashing around we did."

He smiled cheekily and was relieved when Foyle smiled back, "quite."

Reid kept a close eye on Foyle for the next few days but there was nothing to indicate that his shoulder was bothering him at all so he allowed himself to relax. If Foyle noticed that Hugh had suddenly developed a habit of standing on his right side in crowds he made no mention of it and the morning at the river just became another supporting beam in their decades old friendship.

The End


End file.
